


Moments and More

by B_Radley



Series: Genesis and Coda [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship/Love, Goodbyes, Multi, Reunions, Stolen Moments, for now at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: Hellos and Goodbyes. Comfort, love and friendship.





	Moments and More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyKatana4544 (Lady_Katana4544)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/gifts).



> A prompt for Lady_Katana4544. Hope it works. 
> 
> Thanks for the challenge.

Ketsu awakens slowly as she sees the morning sun playing behind her eyelids. A shadow passes through the light. She slowly opens her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim light of the old communications tower. Her hand moves over to the other side of the small sleep pallet, hoping to tease her partner awake. Her eyes come open more fully as she feels only cool coverlet rather than warm skin. She looks to the open door; relaxes as she sees the familiar figure standing braced against the railing. She comes up from her supine rest, stretching her arms towards the low ceiling, allowing the strained muscles to knit themselves into something less strained.

She swings her feet to the floor, taking up an old exercise shirt—a garment for someone much taller than the figure at the door. She smirks as she sees the insignia of a certain Alliance commando unit—a large, snarling feline beast—an Akul, as had been patiently explained to her by the owner of the shirt. A member of that self-same unit, now demobbed and back home on the world filled with the beast represented on the shirt. She pulls it over her head without a thought.

She walks out, stopping just before she steps into the sun. She smiles softly as she sees the now-cropped royal purple hair over the bronzed skin of the young woman’s back, clad in a tank and shorts.

She moves her arms around Sabine’s middle. As she places her face against the artist’s cheek, she feels the muscles of her jaw move, forming a smile. She breathes in the clean smell of Sabine’s hair, then closes her eyes.

Sabine’s hand drops on her own against her middle.

“Credit for your thoughts, ‘bine,” she says into the ear.

“Not worth that much, Kets,” Sabine replies.

“I guess today’s the day,” Ketsu says quietly.

“Yeah. She should be here within the hour.”

“Sabine, you don’t have to go. Lothal is safe. You can stand down now. You could go home, or even better, go with me further out into the Rim.”

As soon as she says it, she knows that she should’ve saved her breath.

“I have to, Kets,” the younger woman says. “You, of all people, should know that I can’t leave something unfinished. I made a promise to an old friend. I’ve finally figure out what the hell that promise actually was.” She moves her head back against Ketsu’s chest. “Besides. Apparently another old friend made the same promise to Ezra.”

“The same old friend who apparently sat out most of the war?” As she feels Sabine stiffen, she regrets the words.

Sabine relaxes. “Come on, Ketsu. Let’s not ruin this moment. Neither of us knows what she did or didn’t do in the war, or where she was. I’ve seen some strange damn things in the last few years. I do know she’s putting off reunions with others who she cares deeply for. Ones that she fought and bled with.”

Ketsu nods. She buries her face in Sabine’s shoulder and tightens her grip on her. They are both quiet as the sun rises over the plains of Lothal.

~=~=~=~=~=

Rex watches as the young woman rests against his chest. He grimaces as he realizes that the shoulder that she rests against has locked. He tries to move without disturbing her, but stops as he hears a low chuckle.

“What’s the matter old man? Am I going to have to put you in an old-folks’ home?”

“You ain’t all that young yourself, Padawan,” he says dryly. He moves his bald head against her rear lek, allowing his arms to tighten around her. “I can still teach you a thing or two in my dotage.”

She shifts, then moves up from him, turning on the couch to gaze at him with those blue eyes. He remembers the first time he had ever laid eyes on her. Those impossibly large eyes had taken up most of her face.

A powerful Smirk—one that could only be thought of with a capital letter, had taken up the rest.

He looks for any hint of that young warrior in the face before him. He sees that while still relatively young, the skin around her eyes and mouth show tiny lines of her age.

“I’m just glad that I got to see you reach age forty,” he whispers. He feels his eyes burn. He turns away, blinking away those tears.

She turns his face back to hers, then touches her lips to his eyes, kissing away the moisture. His eyes widen at the intimacy. “So much time,” she whispers.

 _Nearly ten years since Malachor. Since I signed off on that hologram. Fifteen years before that. Barely five minutes here, ten minutes there in between._ For just a moment, Rex envies those damned Corellians and pirates that she had spent time with, early in the Rebellion.

He looks up as she puts her hands on his cheeks. “Lot of hyperspace under our belts, since we left Mandalore burning,” she says.

“I know, ‘Soka.”

She smiles. “No one’s called me that in years. You were the only I let call me that. Except for Leia, when she was a child.”

“I’m thinking that Commander Organa might still call you that, if you let her.”

It is Ahsoka’s turn for her eyes to tear. “I doubt she remembers me. She was only around five when I stopped using Alderaan as a base. Only saw her intermittently since then.” The tears spill down her cheeks. “I taught her how to swim,” she whispers.

 _Probably taught her a few other things as well. Things you didn’t even know you were teaching,_ he thinks. “I think you should find a way to see her, before you go on your little quest,” he says.

She makes a non-committal noise. “I know,” she finally says, after a moment. “But I need to do this. I made a promise.”

“What about your promises to others, Ahsoka?” he asks gently.

“They understand,” she says tersely.

 _Do I understand?_ he asks himself, as she turns back to look out of the port at the chaos of hyperspace. He shakes his head slightly. _You wouldn’t be who you are, if you didn’t go. Pretty sure those others know this as well._

The door to the wardroom opens. An impossibly young Ensign stands tentatively in the hatch. His eyes widen at the scene of the powerful woman sitting close to the old war veteran, her feet tucked under her, her head on his shoulder. “Begging your pardon, Commander Rex, but Captain Florlin sends her complements. We’ll revert to normal space at the rendezvous point in about ten minutes.” The Ensign looks at Ahsoka. “Your shuttle is ready, ah, Fulcrum,” he manages to stammer out.

Rex feels her tense next to him. “No, Ensign,” she says quietly. “Not Fulcrum. Others carried that burden after me. Just Ahsoka.”

She turns back to Rex after the junior officer has left. He closes his eyes as her head rests on his shoulder, careful of her montrals against his beard. He feels her arms tighten around his middle.

They sit against each other, waiting for the moment of parting, again.

Hopefully only a temporary one.

~=~=~=~=~=

Barriss Offee looks down at the younger woman slumped against the bulkhead of the deserted passageway. She allows her breathing to slow, her heartrate to come to Mirialan normal. She moves her hand down to the white wing marking on Ahsoka’s cheek. Barriss smiles softly as she thinks on how the marking has changed since that first mission together. She remembers focusing on the almost-glow of the marking in the dim light of the buried Separatist tank, as she tried to bring her terror under control. The calm matter-of-fact way that Ahsoka had begun cataloging their options had centered her, to where she could match her voice to the younger Padawan’s, as she had been trained to do.

She moves her hand down to the tip of Ahsoka’s right lek, marveling at the growth shown in the length. She smiles and lifts the tip to her lips.

Barriss hears a noise somewhere between a purr and a growl from Ahsoka. “Keep doing that, and we’ll never make it to the flight deck,” she says. Barriss closes her eyes at the familiar high, clear voice with its Mid-Rim accent. She lowers the lek and brings her lips to Ahsoka’s.

“Need water,” Ahsoka whispers. Barriss rolls her eyes, but gets up and walks over to the scuttlebutt. Fortunately, there is a sleeve of paper cups attached to the bulkhead near it.

She is forced to return twice to the water supply before Ahsoka licks her lips.

“Thanks, Barriss.” The blue eyes finally open and lance Barriss’s own. “For everything. I needed that.”

Barriss smiles. “So did I, Ahsoka. Probably more than you did.”

She looks away as the blue eyes grow troubled. “Why, Barriss? I can feel the darkness of this place weighing on you. I know Umbara is a hellhole, but we’ve been in hellholes before.”

“I don’t know, Ahsoka,” Barriss replies, unable to meet her eyes. “I think it’s everything. We’re not supposed to be fighting a war. I’m a healer. At most I expected to be working on relief missions, or healing younglings who fall out of trees in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not piecing young men together almost from scratch. Not leading ground attack cover sorties on those who might not want the Republic on their world.”

It is Ahsoka’s turn to take Barriss’s face in her hands. “I know. Force, I know. I don’t think I’m supposed to be commanding an entire air group. But here I am. I have to do what I can to keep these boys alive.”

Barriss chokes at her words. _Boys. You’re scarce more than a girl,_ she thinks. She shakes the thought away, then lays her head against Ahsoka’s chest. She hears the Togruta-rapid beat—the life of this young woman. She shoves the darkness away.

She lifts up and brings her lips to Ahsoka’s forehead markings. She takes a deep breath. “You think we could—?” she starts.

“Yes,” comes the emphatic reply, before she finishes the request. She moves her lips down to Ahsoka’s throat.

A bosun’s pipe over the loudspeaker cuts into their senses. “ _Flight quarters, flight quarters. Stand by to recover aircraft. Medical teams to the hangar bay. Commander Tano, lay to the launch area for next sortie.”_

They both slump against one another. “Dammit,” Ahsoka says. Ahsoka pulls herself and Barriss to their feet. Both Jedi adjust their clothing and fasten things that had come undone. Ahsoka pulls Barriss’s head covering over her head, running her fingers through the dark mass before putting it in place.

Without another word, both turn and move to their stations. The mask of command and calm over their young faces.

Neither of them realize that this would be the last time that they would share a moment like this—a moment of light and relative joy. One of only a handful since their relationship had morphed into more than merely a close friendship.

~=~=~=~=~=

Ahsoka starts awake as the navicomputer warning dings. She takes a deep breath as the stars fall to pinpricks. Lothal rests in the cockpit port of the old Jedi T-6 shuttle. A shuttle that would be her home for however long it took to find a lost Jedi. She smiles as the two X-wings fall on each side.

The smile disappears as she thinks of her dream. She hadn’t thought of Barriss in a long time. Even in the time that she had to reflect on her past on Malachor, as Morai had rested on her shoulder, she had thought of those she had left behind—her two families among the rebels. Not the ones who had betrayed her long ago. She shakes her head. _She had continuously thought of Anakin and the thing that he had become._

She can only hope that he is at peace. She can only hope that Barriss had found peace. She remembers the last time she had seen her fellow Padawan—her friend—her lover. Her face twisted in anger and hatred. Her words angry, spit at the Senate and Palpatine.

Her words angry, but not necessarily untrue.

Ahsoka smiles at other memories. Surviving the buried tank on Geonosis. Laughing together—so proud that she could make the solemn Mirialan smile, then laugh. The tentative touch of a hand on another. The ‘kissing practice’.

The light of stolen moments in each other’s arms.

She had found that she could never be angry at Barriss, even in those first days of despair in Coruscant’s undercity.

She wonders if she can forgive her, now. She had long ago forgiven the members of the Jedi Council. _Well, maybe not Mace Windu,_ she thinks with a grin. Her grin fades. _No. Even him._

As she always does, she wonders if, in an odd way, she owes Barriss her life. If she had not left the Order, she could have very well been coughing her life out on the Jedi Temple floor, the point of Anakin’s lightsaber buried in her chest, his yellow eyes the last thing that she sees.

Ahsoka Tano smiles, lifting the staff she now bears with the toe of her boot, to her hand, not bothering with the Force.

_At this moment, she will forgive._


End file.
